rk fellow with smouldery eyes and sucked-in weathered cheeks,
dashed out of covert, rode past, saluting, and dashed in again. A jay
came out with a screech, dived, and doubled back; a hare made off across
the fallow--the light-brown lopping creature was barely visible against
the brownish soil. Pigeons, very high up, flew over and away to the next
wood. The shrilling voices of the whips rose from the covert-depths, and
just a whimper now and then from the hounds, swiftly wheeling their noses
among the fern and briers.

Gyp, crisping her fingers on the reins, drew-in deep breaths. It smelled
so sweet and soft and fresh under that sky, pied of blue, and of white
and light-grey swift-moving clouds--not half the wind down here that
there was up there, just enough to be carrying off the beech and oak
leaves, loosened by frost two days before. If only a fox would break
this side, and they could have the first fields to themselves! It was so
lovely to be alone with hounds! One of these came trotting out, a pretty
young creature, busy and unconcerned, raising its tan-and-white head, its
mild reproachful deep-brown eyes, at Winton's, "Loo-in Trix!" What a
darling! A burst of music from the covert, and the darling vanished
among the briers.

Gyp's new brown horse pricked its ears. A young man in a grey cutaway,
buff cords, and jack-boots, on a low chestnut mare, came slipping round
the covert. Oh--did that mean they were all coming? Impatiently she
glanced at this intruder, who raised his hat a little and smiled. That
smile, faintly impudent, was so infectious, that Gyp was melted to a
slight response. Then she frowned. He had spoiled their lovely
loneliness. Who was he? He looked unpardonably serene and happy sitting
there. She did not remember his face at all, yet there was something
familiar about it. He had taken his hat off--a broad face, very well
cut, and clean-shaved, with dark curly hair, extraordinary clear eyes, a
bold, cool, merry look. Where had she seen somebody like him?

A tiny sound from Winton made her turn her head. The fox--stealing out
beyond those further bushes! Breathless, she fixed her eyes on her
father's face. It was hard as steel, watching. Not a sound, not a
quiver, as if horse and man had turned to metal. Was he never going to
give the view-halloo? Then his lips writhed, and out it came. Gyp cast
a swift smile of gratitude at the young man for having had taste and
sense to